April Wedding
by DefinitelyNotScott
Summary: Lux is helping Darius with the final details of his wedding ensemble when she discovers he hasn't been briefed on certain Demaican marriage customs. (Warning... If sibling-polygamy gives you incest vibes this story may not be for you.)


Darius was seated in front of a vanity mirror. The reflection of the gleaming, unmarred dress-armor he wore made him feel unfamiliar to himself. Gone was his usual, battle-ready armor, replaced by something so lightly made that any common soldier could cut through it! ...provided they survived getting close enough to land a hit. Each dent on his regular armor was a solid reminder of survival, while wearing this perfect, shiny, _pitiful_ excuse for armor made him look like an untested, unworthy warrior! It felt unnatural! Briefly, he considered asking for his regular armor, even at this late hour. Odd, because he had never dwelt on such things before. He could have refused to wear this waste of materials, but he hadn't. Was this what getting cold feet felt like? It resembled the sensation that comes before heading into a battle against overwhelming odds. Funny that bringing peace felt like going to war.

But such was the way of political marriages; his armor and his position left him exposed for a reason. He thought he had made his peace with the marriage to Garen. After all, he had agreed to it! Still, a small voice whispered that arranged marriages were for nobles, that he was out of place. Garen was a noble born and bred, but Darius had gained the title "Lord" the hard, Noxian way, by killing his way to the top until he couldn't be denied. He had the scars to prove it. They had clashed often enough on the fields of battle, and more recently on the fields of justice, that Darius had to admit Garen deserved whatever titles he held. But how did Garen feel? Did Garen see him as worthy? He couldn't help but feel this ridiculous armor didn't help.

Wearing her own dress-armor, Luxanna Crownguard bustled around behind him, sorting through the various flowers and leaves that covered every available flat surface in the room. The countless flowers gave off a pleasing scent. Oddly enough, his nose could not pick out the clashing smells found in the floral arrangements at funerals. Although numerous, the flowers were neatly organized by type, color, and size. Lux paused thoughtfully before some white flowers, adding a decent sized bunch to her selection. She placed her bounty on the table in front of the mirror and began picking through the clips and pins that would secure them in Darius' hair.

He felt the delicate chair shift beneath his mass with every movement. Even the furniture felt foreign, not up to his weight - fragile. Heaven forbid he caused an incident by breaking one of their possessions! The Crownguards were old nobility, this delicate chair probably either cost a small fortune, or was a family heirloom, possibly both. If it broke, and the broken pieces scuffed the armor, would it count as surviving a battle? He stilled himself, limiting his activity to a restless tapping of his fingers. Politics were just battles that are fought with words instead of armies. He wasn't going to lose to these _Demacians_ by breaking a flimsy chair!

"Why is this even necessary?" he grumbled. "What are you _doing_ here?"

Lux met his eyes in the mirror, and her smile widened. "It's a venerable tradition that will make the old guard happy. I'm here to put flowers in your hair, _obviously_." She held up a chain of small red and white roses as an example and moved to his side. "And what do you have to complain about anyway? You _know_ that Draven is covering Garen's entire head in the pinkest flowers he can find, even as we speak. Besides, this gives us a nice chance to get to know one another."

By this point she was concentrating on measuring the chain, changing it into a crown and clipping it into place using what looked like small golden-brown birds. He watched her work in the mirror, observing how she smiled down on him even as her fingers moved quick and sure between his hair and the flowers. He didn't know she could be so gentle with a high ranking Noxian. He seen her handiwork. For now at least, her touch was light and gentle, very pleasant. Darius knew Garen hit hard, but could his touch turn gentle as easily as his sister's? The wedding night wasn't far away; he would know soon enough.

"Why do we _need_ to 'get to know one another?' I can put flowers in my _own_ hair!" he growled. _Fewer_ flowers in his hair. He eyed the pile of vegetation she had collected. It could easily cover his head, although it thankfully contained more green and… colors other than pink. Was there a bare minimum of flowers he would be forced to endure?

"Well…" A blush rose on her cheeks and she didn't bother meeting his eyes in the mirror, focusing on a set of oak leaves, choosing some sprigs and discarding others. He wondered what the criteria for selection were. She cleared her throat and continued, "I know things are different in Noxus, but I want… I'd _like_ to get to know you better. So that when we…" Her hands stopped, then resumed their task, her face a light shade of pink. "When it's time to get Garen an heir it's not… it's not… _awkward_." She held up two nearly identical sprigs of three leaves, and gave an approving nod. Maintaining her lack of eye contact, she stepped back to his side.

Chills ran down his spine. Something was not right here! The inflection in her voice was off. This hesitant girl was not the Luxanna Crownguard he was familiar with, and what she'd said didn't make sense either. Time to get some answers! He felt unbalanced enough without walking into this marriage unprepared. One of his hands reached out to stop her fidgeting, awkward movements. The blush, which was far cuter than it had a right to be, deepened.

"What are you _talking_ about?" he asked, more irritation in his voice than he intended. Lux froze briefly at his touch, but soon shook off his hand and went back to arranging flowers in his hair.

"You _know_ what I'm talking about!" Her touch was rougher as she tucked the first sprig in above his ear. What could she be unhappy about? Of course he didn't know, or he wouldn't ask! In the mirror he could see the blush expanding to cover her entire face, even running down her neck. She started to step back behind him, but he grabbed her wrist once more and looked up at her over his shoulder. Direct eye contact caused her blush to grow. It was creeping up to the tips of her ears by this point.

"No, I _don't_. What are you talking about?" he repeated, meeting her eyes. Damn! He already was stuck dealing with nonsensical Demacian political wordplay? Couldn't they have spared him that until _after_ the wedding? Somehow he managed to convey his genuine ignorance on the subject, because her eyebrows rose and her mouth shaped a silent "Oh!" He really shouldn't find his future sister-in-law this cute.

"Nobody... nobody _told_ you how inheritance works in Demacia?" she asked, moving back in front of him. He shook his head, starting to release her, but her wrist turned when his grip loosened and she took hold of his hand with both of hers.

"Well, uh." Her blush intensified, continuing to creep along, past her collar now. He wondered exactly how far it would go. "Since you and Garen can't have children directly…" She cleared her throat. "...as his closest unmarried female relative, it's my job to, uh, help you out with that."

"Wait," he interrupted. "So you're telling me I'm actually marrying _you_?" What the _fuck_? Demacians were crazy. Back during the negotiations, he had been surprised Lux wasn't offered instead of her brother. Garen, with his higher rank, inheritance, and expectation of a title, had been a more "respectful" option according to the Demacians, suitable to Darius' station. He had also suspected them of maneuvering to keep him in check better. Were they trying to slight him by substituting the _less_ respectful option now? Or was it some kind of power play?

"Oh, no!" She patted his hand. It felt weird, was she trying to _comfort_ him? "You and Garen will have your own relationship. I don't have to be involved much if that's your preference. And, uh…" She looked up at him with concern, her eyebrows crimped and the corners of her mouth pinched. "If you don't like women there are ways, modern ways," she fumbled with her words. "You don't even have to _touch_ me if that's a problem! I mean, I didn't know they hadn't _told_ you!"

"No. I like women fine," he cut off her rambling, and looked away, trying to process this new information. He debated telling her that back before he realized Demacia's fanatical pursuit of matching the prestige of Noxus' offer would lead them to consider her brother, she had been his first choice among all the noblewomen.

A relieved sigh passed her lips, and a look he'd almost call tender came into her eyes. "Well, good. I can explain in detail later, but right now I really need to finish getting you ready for your wedding." She tucked the remaining sprig of oak leaves over his other ear, fingers back to being gentle. Then she turned to pick out more flowers from the pile: yellow, scarlet, pale indigo. Darius wasn't really paying attention beyond that.

He had only recently been worrying about the relationship he was going to have with Garen, and now he discovered… Lux. How was he supposed to navigate between the two of them? He hadn't expected to be outnumbered! And how could she _not_ be involved? If he had been uneasy earlier, now he was legitimately apprehensive. Darius glanced back at the mirror to see her threading the flowers into his hair at seemingly random intervals. Even he had to admit that it looked… decorative. Colorful, but not overwhelming, the blossoms bright against his dark hair.

She stepped back, blocking the mirror. "There!" she said, voice rich with satisfaction.

He glanced at the remaining pile of flowers on the table. "That's all?" He sent up a prayer of thanks that he hadn't ended up looking like the site of a floral massacre.

Her eyes followed his gaze to the plants, then she turned back with a warm smile. "I don't want to overdo it. Got to show Draven that less is more. And of course a few of these are for me." She separated out a group of small white flowers and began tucking them into the creases of her intricate braid, already sparkling with crystals, or perhaps diamonds. Diamond hairpins seemed almost obscene to him, but the nobility did ridiculous things like that. Lux made it look elegant, instead of gaudy.

She caught him watching her work. "Mayflower for welcome," she said with another smile.

"What?" Could she stop being confusing for five whole minutes? He would _like_ a chance to regain his equilibrium.

"Mayflowers," she said, and held up one of the little white flowers before adding it to her braid. "They symbolize "Welcome.""

"It's a code?" He glanced at himself in the mirror, the colorful spectacle of his hair reduced to a kind of gibberish. "What do mine say?" He hated having to rely on her word to know what message he was wearing.

"The most prominent ones are the red and white roses bound together, symbolizing unity, and the straw doves meaning united in peace. The rest are just descriptors: strength, courage, patriotism…" She grinned, and wiggled her eyebrows. "...joys to come. That kind of thing." Leaning back against the vanity table, she crossed her arms, still smiling. "It's a pretty old system; not everybody can read it. But the ones who can will let the others know, or people will look up the meanings when they get home. It's pretty common to use flowers that way in Demacian ceremonies and events."

"How unusually subtle." He remembered seeing flowers pinned to lapels and bouquets on the tables during the talks leading up to the engagement, _his_ engagement. He wondered what they had been saying.

She giggled. "Are you seriously accusing Demacians of being too direct? _You?_ "

He shrugged his stiff shoulders while his lips moved in an equally uncertain smile. If it really bothered him he could ask her what all those flowers had meant - if she remembered. His lips quirked upward a bit more. Of course their best spy would remember those details!

She glanced over at the clock. "Almost time for you to commence operations." She stood, unfolding her arms and reaching one hand out to him. "We'd better get you in position." Intellectually he realized her use of military terminology was a calculated move, designed to put him at ease. Even so, it still helped.

 **Author's Note**

This piece is a collaboration with DarthUmbreon and was a reversal of the usual way we collaborate. The draft was written by DefinitelyNotScott and then revised by DarthUmbreon (and then revised again by each - our tenses don't match so it was terrible XD ).

There are three main parts planned, with optional epilogue ideas depending on how we feel. The draft for part three is complete, but part two is currently a single paragraph so there may be a wait.


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